He pulls his fingers out of me and brings them to his mouth to lick off my juices like he’s tasting victory.
I can only stare at him, stunned to my core. “I wish I’d never met you.”
“I know, love.” He cocks his head. “That’s why I’m going to give you a chance.”
My eyes narrow. “What kind of chance?”
“You want me to forfeit, don’t you?” His smile curves deeper when my eyes bulge. “Yes, Isla. I had you figured out the instant you walked through those doors.”
“I was…” I hate being called out. I never know what to say. “I had to try something.”
“I give you credit.” His tone is overflowing with remorseless humor. “How about we get out of here and play a game?”
I inch back. “A game?”
“Yes. If you win, I forfeit and you get to keep your restaurant. But if I win…” His voice dips, dark promise threading through the words. “…you give me anything I want.”
That sounds way too good to be true. And like another trap. “What kind of game is it?”
“You’ll have to come with me to find out, love. Ready?” He stands, offering his hand.
This is that thing again where I have to try regardless of the consequences.
If I win, he’ll forfeit. Just like that. How could I possibly say no?
“Yes,” I breathe and give him my hand.
Chapter Seventeen
Isla
I followKnox down the corridor, nerves tight as we head to his office.
He walks before me, shoulders squared, with the cool confidence of a man who owns the world and everything inside it.
We just got back to the house. I was surprised he brought me back here, but I can’t complain because I had enough of the party.
That said, being here isn’t that much better since I have no idea what I’m getting myself into with this game of his. Whatever it is.
Being anywhere near him after what he did to me—what Iallowedhim to do to me—is rattling my brain.
I can’t believe he touched me like that again. And I came.In public.
My cheeks heat at the memory. And shamefully, so does my body.
It’s surreal. Everything feels surreal, and I wish I could shake this displaced feeling of walking around in theTwilight Zone.
We reach his office, and he opens the door.
Like the rest of the house, the automatic lights pop on the moment we walk in.
This is the first time I’ve been in here. It wasn’t exactly off limits to me, but I had no desire to check it out. Apparently, the universe decided that should change tonight.
Inside, the office looks exactly like what I expected from Knox—sophisticated wealth wrapped in dark masculinity with rich mahogany paneling covers the walls, gleaming under the soft lighting like liquid gold.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line two walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that look both expensive and actually read, their spines bearing titles in multiple languages.
A massive desk dominates the center of the room, its polished surface reflecting the warm glow from a banker's lamp with a brass shade.
